


All The Time In The Universe

by QueenElizabeth



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Comfort Reading, Comfort/Angst, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 17:51:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4069105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenElizabeth/pseuds/QueenElizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor visits a friend at home when she needs a Doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Time In The Universe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DoctorDeadWizard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorDeadWizard/gifts).



> Something to give as a gift to a friend and myself, on a difficult day.

“Chocolate, chocolate chip, peanut butter chocolate, hazeln—“

*THUD*

You gasped and jumped a good yard backward as a wave of reverberation rattled your body and your entire kitchen. You darted into the doorway to peer out into your living room, and stood there, mouth agape, failing to believe your eyes, for what felt like hours.

“I’ve finally lost it. All the way lost it. It was really just a matter of time, I suppose. Maybe I’m asleep. What was I watching? I was watching this, wasn’t I? Maybe she was right. Maybe I do need to go and talk about meds at this point,” you thought to yourself, mind racing incoherently.

“Oh good… I thought she messed it up,” the Doctor exclaimed, the TARDIS slamming her doors hard, nearly pinning the tail of his long black coat inside. “Sorry; I messed up,” he apologized to the closed doors, “or rather I suppose I didn’t. Anyway, good! This is where I meant to be.” The Doctor strode up to stand directly in front of you, his tall, lanky frame more imposing than you had always imagined it to be.

You continued to stare blankly ahead. How? Was this real? Had you fallen asleep with your television on again? You knew today was a pretty bad day as far as your depression was concerned, but surely you weren’t so near the precipice of total… madness?

“Is your air conditioning broken?” he asked.

“What?… My air… why?” you replied, and furrowed your brow in confusion.

The Doctor pointed into your kitchen, and continued, “Your ice cream storage unit is ajar.”

Slightly embarrassed, you rushed back into the room to shut the freezer door, and began to realize that this was all really happening.

“Why are you here? You are here, aren’t you?” You asked. You walked up to the Doctor, and reached up to gently touch his face. He seemed here.

Now the Doctor was looking at you like you were mad. “Why do you think I am here? I’m the Doctor! I live on a cloud in the sky, and I stop you from ever having bad dreams,” he explained, straight-face sliding into a gentle smirk, one eyebrow raised.

“I thought that was all the children… the children of the world? Their bad dreams. Am I asleep? OH GOD. Is there a crab on my face??” you asked, slowly touching the borders of your own face.

“Good heavens. You do need me. I was attempting to be charming. You are not asleep, though you could most certainly do well with a good night’s rest,” the Doctor rolled his eyes a little, and put his arm around your shoulder, guiding you to sit on the couch.

“I still don’t understand,” you offered, folding yourself into a neat curl amongst the overstuffed pillows.

“I’m just here because you need a Doctor,” he said, voice gentle and warmly raspy, “can I come and sit with you for a while?”

This last statement struck an unexpected chord inside you, and you could feel the warmth rising in your face, your eyes on the verge of tearing.

He noticed your growing discomfort with the idea of being that vulnerable, and suggested lighter pastimes. “Did you actually want some of that ice cream?” he asked, “I saw chocolate hazelnut, and I really like that one.”

You smiled at the idea that a 2,000 year old space alien would enjoy chocolate ice cream, and agreed. “Let’s have some, then.”

He walked immediately into the kitchen and popped his head back out into the doorway as he heard you strain to your feet, and said, “You sit. I can handle this. Ever since my latest regeneration, I seem to have a real facility with ice cream anyway. I can’t explain it.” You opened your mouth, in consideration of offering an explanation to him, but decided to let that one pass. He added, from behind the kitchen wall, “Sit, relax. Do as you’re told.”

So you did. You leaned back into the cushions and admittedly, had already begun to feel a little better. It was nice to have the company, surreal though it was.

As the now coat-less Doctor returned with bowls of ice cream, and took a place on the couch next to you, you offered to turn on the television. “This is what I was planning to do this afternoon anyway, honestly,” you said.

“Television is rubbish,” he countered, “All the programs are terrible, and it makes you stupider. Never touch the stuff, myself.”

You smiled broadly and pressed the tiniest bit, “really? All the programs?”

He inhaled a spoonful of dessert and nodded, “Oh, aye. There hasn’t been anything good on for fifty years. This is an Earth thing, anyway. Most of the rest of us still prefer books.”

You accepted this, and enjoyed your ice cream while you watched him, in relative silence. His fluffy grey curls softened his appearance and enhanced the more fantastic aspects of his personality. His blue green eyes were quick and extremely animated, suggesting his mind worked as speeds you didn’t dare spend much time considering. He was a bit alien, but also surprisingly handsome. Comforting. You’d only just met him formally, but you’d known him forever. In ways you didn’t expect, just sitting there together was exceptionally healing.

“How are you already done?” you asked, with a laugh, peering over into the Doctor’s empty bowl.

“I told you I like ice cream,” he replied, with a warm smile, which caused his sparkling eyes to wrinkle in the most endearing way. He placed the bowl and spoon onto the nearby table, and returned to the couch, a touch closer to you than before. He looked down at the floor and sighed gently before returning his gaze to meet yours. He placed his hand on your knee, and said softly, “look, I know.”

Your heart sank, and you felt that same familiar tug inside your chest, signaling impending tears. You stared down into your bowl.

“I know how it’s been, and I understand,” he explained.

You listened intently, though you dared not look at him yet.

“You’re tired. I’m tired. I’ve been at this for millennia. You feel hopeless, like you’re spinning in circles and going nowhere. That’s how I feel when I just simply try to go home. You’re afraid. You’re alone. You feel so desperately alone, even when you’re surrounded by other humans, like you’re the last of your kind, too,” he said.

You nodded as heavy tears fell from your cheeks into your melting ice cream.

“I can’t take all that away, and for that I am sorry. I can’t take you away in the TARDIS forever, because people here need you. They really do. I will take you out for a spin later and show you some stars, but you’ll have to come home,” he said with a warm smile.

You slammed your eyes shut and exhaled sharply, tears starting to silently flow.

He took the bowl from your hand and placed it atop his on the table, and wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you close against his chest, and you rested your head against the woolen constellations of his holey jumper. You could hear his hearts beat: calmly, reassuringly. Marching forward through time, tired, afraid, alone, but still beating on. Determined, brave, hopeful. All the gifts and lessons he wanted to give to you. You could feel them, tangibly, as you relaxed and allowed yourself to really hear everything he was saying, without his saying a word. The warmth and healing of his love flowed over you like water sinking into the thirsty sun-parched earth.

After some time, he leaned closer to whisper into your ear, “Let’s take a nap. That’s what you need. A real one. No looking at your phone.”

You straightened up to look at him, still, after all this, only mostly believing he was even really there. “How do you know I look at my phone? I nap….” You said. He smoothed your hair back behind your ear and lovingly wiped the tears from your face.

“Time Lord telepathy,” he explained, and smiled, “You just heard me then! I know everything. Why do you think I am so tired?”

You managed a weak smile, eyes bleary, and he stood to help you to your feet.

As you walked ahead of him, leading him to your bed, he commented, “You’re short. Not as short as Clara, of course, but I can see right over the top of you.”

You replied, “I’m not, really. You’re just tall,” the half-smile growing into a real one.

He chuckled lightly and continued, “I am not complaining. I like to see your head. You’re really beautiful, you know. I love your hair. I always wanted to be ginger.”

He kicked his boots off and sat down on top of the sheets. Things were really officially surreal, when he patted the space to his left, inviting you into your own bed.

You climbed in next to him, and slipped under the duvet. He scooted himself downward to recline on a stack of pillows, reaching his arm out to hold you, your weary head resting again on his chest. He ran his hand up and down your back sweetly, an otherworldly warmth emanating around your entire torso.

“Are you doing something?” you asked him.

He gazed happily into your big brown eyes and explained, “Time Lord trick. Sorry. Want me to stop? It’s how we physically comfort each other on Gallifrey.”

You shrugged and welcomed the invisible space heating pad, or whatever it was he was doing. This afternoon, it was easiest to just go with it.

And so you rested there for the better part of an hour, accepting the warmth and love and comfort, which seemed to abound so endlessly from the Doctor. You had needed him.

As your eyelids grew heavier, you knew you soon would be asleep, this time for real. You looked up into his eyes and asked, “Are you sure this is fine? I don’t want to take up all your time.”

He slid his long fingers through your soft red curls and pressed a kiss to your forehead as he assured you, “I have all the time in the universe.”


End file.
